chapter one.

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the vanishing of Will Byers

the vanishing of  Will Byers

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november 7th 1983

Hawkin's sheriff, Jim Hopper, enters the station late like every other morning, his hat tilted to one side, shirt not tucked in properly and cigarette hanging from his mouth, "Good of you to show."

"Oh, hey morning, Flo," He says, not even looking at the woman as he rounds the corner into the office, he already knows she has that motherly look on her face, the scolding look she gives, lips turned down and head tilted, "Morning everyone."

"Oh, hey, Chief, you look like hell, Chief."

"Well, I looked better than your wife when I left her this morning."

Flo, the receptionist, sighs as she walks over taking the cigarette from his mouth and discarding it in a nearby ash tray as she shadows him around the station, "While you were drinking or sleeping or whatever it is you deemed so necessary on Monday morning, Phil Larson called, said some kids are stealing the gnomes out of his garden again."

"Oh, those garden gnomes again. Well, I'll tell you what I'm gonna get right on that."

He walks over to the deputy, plucking some cards from his hand as Flo follows behind him, "On to more pressing matters, Joyce Byers can't find her son this morning."

A dougnought in his mouth he nods, acting interested as he busies himself with watching his two deputies play cards, "Mhmm, okay, I'm gonna get on that. Just give me a minute."

"She's very upset." Flo keeps on, following right behind him as he squeezes between the two desks.

"Well, Flo, Flo, we've discussed this. Mornings are for coffee and contemplation."

"Chief, she's already in your-"

"Coffee and contemplation, Flo!"

He rounds the corner of his office not only finding Joyce Byers sitting in a chair by his desk, anxiously fidgeting with her hands as he foot taps against the floor, but another figure curled up in his office chair asleep, his Chief's jacket over her as a blanket.

He sighs, passing Joyce with a simple look, as he walks in and drops the doughnut onto the desk, he grabs the book that is laying flat on the table, lifting it up he keeps a thumb between the two pages and twists the book to see the title. 'Brave New World' by Aldous Huxley, he drops it back down onto the desk, dog earring the page- to which he knows he will get an earful from the book's owner later, but right now he can't seem to care.

"Dallas."

He knees the girl in the side gently, pushing against her so she gets pushed further into the desk chair, but she doesn't budge so he leans down, gently tapping the back of his hand against her cheek, "Dallas!"

She flinches awake and looks up at him, hands steadying herself on the desk and one arm of the chair, "Hey, uncle Jim."

"What are you doing here? Don't you have school?"

She yawns and grips the jacket she'd been using as a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders as she swings her legs over to sit up, "The deputy told me to wait in here for you."

He sighs, "What have you done now?"

She hears a throat clear and peers around his body to look at the woman sitting impatiently behind them, "Hey, Mrs Byers."

The older woman smiles at her, tilting her head towards the floor in a greeting, "Hi, Dallas."

She looks back up to Hopper who is standing with his hands on his hips, he tilts his head at the door, a hand following the direction with a simple flick, "Outside, now."

Dallas looks up, sighing as she grabs her bag from the floor, shoving her book into it and then digging through the mess inside for her walkman.

She pulls it out, swinging the bag over her shoulder as she leaves and slides the headphones over her head, pushing her untamed hair back as the two round spongy ear pieces start playing music from her mixtape.

'Gold Dust Woman' by Fleetwood Mac fills her ears, and by the time Joyce finally leaves the office, the fifth song on the mixtape, 'I Live For You' by George Harrison is just beginning.

Joyce passes by, adjusting her jacket and the brown bag on her shoulder, giving a small smile to Dallas who is sitting in the office with the ther officers, being taught by the deputy how to play poker, using nuts and biscuits as poker chips.

"Dallas, get here."

She sends a pleading look to Powell who avoids looking at her as he lifts his cards up a little bit, once he's satisfied with them he pushes forward eight of his cashews and two of his almonds.

Dallas sighs still wrapped up in Hopper's huge sheriff's jacket as she walks into his office, flopping down into the chair behind his desk as he slams the door behind them.

"Where's your father?"

She shrugs, picking at her nails, foot bouncing against the floor as she leans back in the chair, "Dallas, where's your father?"

"It's not his week."

He sighs rubbing a hand across his face, "Fine, where's your mother?"

"Probably looking after that stupid fat cat of hers."

"What did they pick you up for this time?"

She looks away and he taps the desk impatiently, just three little knocks on the wooden object making her roll her eyes as she looks back at him, "Vandalism."

He sighs pinching the areas between his brows as he feels a forming headache, and at this point he can't tell if it's from his niece or his hangover.

Deciding against an argument he stands, grabbing his hat from the desk and then pulling his keys from his pocket as he gestures for her to get up.

"Let's go, I'll take you to school."

He heads for the coat rack grabbing his old brown jacket, passing that one to her and taking the one she wears for himself, "Really?"

"Let's go."

Huffing she gets up, grabbing her bag that's been tossed onto the floor since she made her way back inside and swinging it over there shoulder, he stops her suddenly holding his hand out with some gum.

"You trying to say my breath smells?"

"I'm trying to say you smell like cigarettes."

She takes a piece shoving it into her mouth and he holds his free hand out, when she does nothing he opens and closes it impatiently, reaching into her bag she grabs the packet of cigarettes and shoves them into his hand which he drops onto his desk.

He leaves first, hanging the coat up as she pulls the other one on, she looks up making sure he's out of the room and grabs the discarded packet of cigarettes, shoving them into her pocket before following him out to his car.

Gold Dust Woman - Steve Harrington*Where stories live. Discover now